Silent Treatment
by Sensue
Summary: The case Lestrade sent him was obvious; truly not worth Sherlock Holmes getting dressed. The case of the 'Silent Flatmate' was trickier to solve. Need more data.


The cab ride was quiet - uncomfortably so. John didn't speak a single word since he woke up that morning and Sherlock, for once, hadn't done anything to deserve the silent treatment from his best friend.

His Mind Palace was no help in this regard and neither was his ability to read the situation since John kept his back to him. Others had noticed John's aloofness, Lestrade giving him 'the look' that Sherlock interpreted as _'What did you do now?'_

Even Anderson inserted his incredibly dull observations, "Get in a row with your boyfriend, did you?" Sherlock quickly shot back a retort. "Of course not, but you and Donavan did last night. Mixed up schedules and forgot about your wedding anniversary. How's the couch?" Anderson scoffed at him then quickly walked away.

The case was obvious; truly not worth Sherlock Holmes getting dressed. The case of the 'Silent Flatmate' was trickier to solve. Sherlock stared at his friend, trying to deduce him.

John was leaning away from him, body language screaming 'leave me alone'. John's forehead was pressed against glass and the window was fogging up from his breath. Sherlock could see his friend's face through the reflection; John's eyes were tightly clenched as were his teeth. His FACS (Facial Action Coding System) units were markedly a: 4D + 6D + 9D - indicating that John was in some significant amount of pain.

"John?" Sherlock placed his hand tentatively on his friend's shoulder. He didn't know how to handle this - John was the doctor, the empathatic one who talked to people. "Are you alright?"

Sherlock felt the muscles under his hand stiffen; as an experiment, Sherlock slightly tightened his grip to see if John would pull away. When John didn't react negatively, Sherlock continued his commentary. "I know you're in pain. You've been trying to hide it from me - and you've done a wonderful job thus far but I see you now. Tell me what's wrong."

John turned to face him in the cab, a look of resignation flashing in John's eyes before exhaustion overtook him and he slumped against the seat. Sherlock inched his way closer when John's eyes slipped shut again.

Concerned that John may have fainted, Sherlock quickly moved to press his fingers against John's carotid artery. He had no way of deducing John's reaction.

John screamed profanity and pulled away from the hand prodding him. Sherlock watched as John gripped his throat with both hands; obviously in pain.

"You're sick! How did I miss that?" Sherlock smacked himself in the leg, angrily. "Stupid, Sherlock! Laryngitis - obvious as well as swollen and painful lymph nodes."

He quickly turned the attention back to John, "You're an idiot! You've been in pain the entire day and didn't think to bring it to my attention!"

John finally spoke for the first time that day, his voice was hoarse and barely recognizable. "I didn't want to interrupt your work. I know it's important to you."

"Yes, my work is important John. But, you are crucial to my work; I need you at your best. You also shouldn't hide things from me." Sherlock whipped off the scarf around his neck and gently wrapped it around John's. "Let's get you a cuppa with lemon and honey for your throat."

Sherlock rolled his eyes as John looked surprised. "Yes, I know that remedy. I did have a mother, you know. Let's go."

The cabbie pulled up to 221 Baker Street and Sherlock paid the man, for once before bundling his friend up and leading him up the stairs.

He let John rest on his favorite couch, the scarf still drapped across his sore throat while Sherlock prepared his home remedy. By the time the water had boiled, John was sleeping deeply.

Sherlock set the tea on the side table then crouched down to his friend's level. Sherlock slowly pulled the scarf away, gently pressing his fingers along John's throat. There were several lymph nodes along his jaw swollen with infection. Even in sleep, John's face exibited pain. Sherlock went to the medicine cabinet for a couple of paracetomol, then gently shook his friend awake in order to take them.

It took a couple of attempts, but the pills were successful swallowed and the tea sipped at. Sherlock was surprised once again when John grabbed his hand when he went to move away. Giving his friend a questioning look, he was rewarded with a soft. "Thank you."

"No need, John." Sherlock spoke matter-of-factly, "I'd be lost without my blogger."


End file.
